Corruption: A little crime never hurt anybody
by Vesuvio
Summary: A new year, a new student, a new Harry. In light of the coming war, to expand political friendships, Hogwarts is accepting an exchange student. Harry has opened his eyes to his full potential and changed. Dumbledore is most certainly not happy. The new gi
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : I don't own anything you recognise. I do, however, own the story. Go me!

**Corruption : A little crime never hurt anybody.**

_By Vesuvio_

Ylsa looked up from the keyboard and grinned. The Dancing Harlot was full with the usual crowd, Lucas and his

intellectual buddies leaning over the bar, Tessa quietly listening to the jazz Ylsa was tinkling out on the old piano,

and Remy and Cedis in their respective corners with their respective groups, eyeing one another with reasonable

animosity. Her grin widened. Remy kept digging himself in deeper holes with Cedis. First his sister, then his wife - Remy

never knew where to stop. Loveable rogue.

"Oi, Vesuvio! We ain't payin ye ta sit around starin' inta space, fille. If ye don't stop wit' de daydreamin', even dat uncle o' yours won't b'able ta save y' job, savez?"

Ylsa looked over at Roberto, the barkeep. The smile on his face told her he was only joking.

"Hey, chere, I don' need dis job. I'm wealthy enough as it is. If y' keep harrasin' me, I'm gon' jus' walk out, y'hear?' She called back. 'I only do dis cos I'm bored.'

Roberto grinned fondly at her, before winking and turning back to his glasses. Ylsa turned back to continue playing her slow jazz,

her face absent. Her mind wasn't on the music, but rather a letter she had recieved from her tutor earlier that morning.

_Ylsa Vesuvio_

_Apartment 4_

_Toulouse street_

_New Orleans_

_Chere Ylsa,_

_I have been contacted by an old friend of mine, a teacher, who has heard of your incredible progress in magic._

_He has requested that you transfer to his school in England for a year. I believe that this will be a brilliant opportunity _

_for you to expand your knowledge and, to con a phrase 'broaden your horizons'. And even if you do not agree, your uncle does, so tough._

_Please be ready for a Friday, as I will be coming to collect you and take you to Diagon alley in London via portkey_

_Yours,_

_Talia Mesclon._

Ylsa cringed as she thought of her uncle. Even if she had wanted to turn it down, anything her uncle

believed would 'broaden her horizons'(translation - get her out of his hair for a reasonable amount of time), was a

must in his books. If he knew what she really did for a living, he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

However, she did not want to turn this down. She had a fairly good idea who this 'friend' of Talia's was, and she

would certainly enjoy the challenge of messing with his manipulative little head. Even if that did not work, the British

Ministry were corrupt bordering on anarchic. Plenty of opportunity to get a leg in.

She got up, looking at her watch. It was way past her shift. She strolled across the club to the bar, collecting her usual

Black Russian. She was underage and Robbie knew that, but no-one really cared. She slowly made her way to the exit,

saying hello to almost everyone in the process.

After muttering a quick warning to Remy and slipping him an earpiece in case he got in trouble, she walked out into the night.

She looked left, towards the bouncer.

"Ah, bon soir, Henri. Ca va?"

The bouncer looked at her and touched his forelock.

"Bon soir, Mme Barona. Oui, ca va tres bien, merci. Et toi?"

"Le soir est jeune, Henri, et quelque chose peut se produire. Oui. Je suis tres bon, merci."

And with that, she wandered out into the light polluted night, freshly lit cigar in hand.

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_Please Review Vesuvio_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Yeah, whatever...you know the drill.

**Corruption: Chapter Two**

Midnight. All was quiet at number 4, Privet Drive. The house was dark, save for a solitary light gleaming from a first floor window. There was a pale boy sitting on the windowsill, watching the stars. His lithe and wiry figure gazed up at the stars through the glass, wistfully thinging of somewhere far from there.

This boy was Harry Potter, the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. He hated that name. He hated himself, his so-called 'family', and the magical world that had turned it's back on him. Last year his Godfather had died, and so far all contact he had from 'his world' were words of pity from Ron and Hermione. He had yet to hear from the Old Fool

He snorted at that thought and ran his hand through his hair. It was his fifteenth birthday, and true to his age, he had matured greatly since the beginning of summer. His hair, once scruffy and the cause of much frustration, had grown out. He finally lost his baby hair, and it was now much darker and heavy, falling in a straight, onyx wave to the space between his shoulder blades. His eyes, no longer the bright, naive jade, had darkened to a deep emerald that glowed with inner power.

Though his uncle Vernon was still irritated by his appearance, Harry had become to intimidating for him to even think of trying anything.

Harry had been doing a lot of thinking during the summer. For the most part ignoring the letters from his friends, irritated by their kid gloves, he had spent a lot of time reading his school books. He was almost as avid a reader as Hermione, and he had many books that, if known about, he was sure the Order would not approve. He didn't particularly care what the Order thought, but to be on the safe side, he had kept his secret hobby from them so that he could maintain the image of 'Dumbledore's Golden Boy'. He was a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for. A lot more ambition, too. He smirked to himself. The Hat had probably been right about putting him in Slytherin, but being in Gryffindor gave him a lot more leverage in the magical world.

He glanced down at the letter in his hand, possibly the only letter he had bothered to read all summer : his Hogwarts letter.

_**Hogwarts School  
of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) 

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been invited to return for you sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please  
find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. We would also like to inform you, that, as of now, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be accepting students from other magical communities around the world, who have shown exceptional skills. Our first transfer will arrive in September and be sorted with the first years. We would like to remind you that, as a student, you represent the school, and are expected to be polite and welcoming to the new student.  
_

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31. _

_Yours Sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress _

Harry was decidedly pleased to hear that there was going to be a transfer student. He hoped it would make this year more interesting for him. Also, being from a different country, he could probably learn many new spells from the newcomer. He smiled. This was going to be profitable.

Harry was startled from his musings by a loud _thud! _Without making a sound, he was suddenly across his room, slowly opening the door with his wand.looking up and down the landing, he decided all was clear and crept out and down the stairs. Reaching the living room, he smiled then relaxed.

"Alright, Moody, you can come out now."

The wall beside the TV jumped slightly, then someone whispered _finite incantatum _and Moody came into view. His face was screwed up in a puzzled frown, making the scars contort in odd ways, and making him seem all the more hideous.

"How did ye do that, kid?"

Harry smiled mysteriously.

"I have my ways. Now. As far as I know, the wizarding world is not nocturnal, and yet it is midnight and you are in my living room. What, and why?"

Moody frowned even more. "Didn't ye get the letter? We said we would send someone to pick you up on your birthday."

Harry blinked, and then looked rather sheepish. "I, uh, haven't been reading my letters. They always seemed to say the same thing. My apologies."

Moody nodded sagely. With a wave of his wand, Harry's belongings were packed and downstairs ready to go. He scrawled a note on a spare piece of paper, put on the table, and, levitating Harry's trunks. he ushered Harry out of the door before him. As they were leaving, Harry felt a familiar movement behind him, and then a twinge of magic as Moody said _finite incantatum _to little effect.

"Moody? What-"

"Nothing, kid. Let's get going, before anyone notices you're out in the open."

As they walked out into the night, Moody observed the teen in front of him with suspicion. If that truly was Harry, and he wasn't under a spell of any kind, then why did he seem so different? Something had changed, that was for sure. Harry never used to be so well spoken.

Oh well, he thought. Stranger things have happened.

The door at number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, slammed shut behind the pair. Mrs. Black awoke with a great shriek, and began to rant. Harry looked up at her with a mild stare.

"Oh, do shut up." He said.

Mrs. Black stopped in shock at the frankness with which those words were said. The halfblood in front of her was looking up at her with one eyebrow raised. "Are you quite finished?" he said, "Yes? Good." And with that, he closed her curtains with a brusque air of finality. He turned to Moody. "Shall we?" he asked, before strolling towards the kitchen.

Moody stood in shock. There was certainly something different about the kid.

As Harry entered the kitchen, Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin were sitting discussing something at the table. From the sounds of it, it was him. They looked up as the door opened. Molly smiled at him, hugging him and sitting him down with food and drink, and Lupin proceeded to ask about his summer. However, Harry could tell this was a front. In their eyes, there was a mixture of pity and fear for him. He internally shook his head. He should have expected that. He'd better get used to it too - everyone was going to be like that, especially Ron and Hermione.

Outwardly, he responded to their questions politely and in kind. However, they couldn't help but have trouble deciding whether Harry was being genuine, or whether he was being slightly sarcastic with them. Had it been anyone else, they would have sworn he was making fun of them. But this was _the _Harry Potter, the pride of the wizarding world. Good little Harry would never do anything like that.

According to what Moody and Remus were prepared to tell him, from what he could gather Hermione wasn't coming to Grimmauld place, and Ron, Ginny and the twins had gone back to Romania with Charlie for a holiday. Perfect. That meant he could explore The house without anyone constantly nagging him. He was sure he'd find lots of interesting books.

Pulling himself back to the real world, he excused himself on the pretext of going to bed. After saying his goodnights, he began to climb the stairs. Reaching his usual bedroom, he noticed that his luggage was already there. He closed the door, sat down and crossed his legs on the floor. concentrating on his hearing, he dipped into his magical centre.

He had first done this in Privet Drive. He had been curious after reading a theory on the origin of magic. It said that everyone had a magical centre, a well of sorts, but only witches and wizards are born with the ability to access this core. If you concentrated, you could find the magic within yourself and access more than you would instinctually. The theory stated that you could use this extra power to augment certain aspects of your body, such as your speed or your hearing.

This is what Harry was doing now. He drew out a small amount of power and mentally directed it towards his ears.

"--patrol now. Just because he's here doesn't mean I can shirk of from my duty. Evening Molly, Remus."

Harry heard Moody's footsteps retreat towards the door, and the light click as the door closed and locked itself behind him. He smiled. No more magical eye! He was now free to roam the house as he felt like.

He got to his feet and began to rummage through his bag. after a while the door opened and closed gently. The room was empty.

Harry smiled beneath the invisibility cloak, as he made his way up the stairs to the top floor library he knew was there.

This was going to be an interesting summer.

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_Please Review._

_Vesuvio_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer : I don't own anything. At all. Nadda.

**Corruption: Chapter Three.**

Ylsa looked at her watch. Talia was fifteen minutes late. That in itself was not surprising, as Talia was always late, but that didn't mean Ylsa had to suddenly develop some patience.

"Christ, babe, where were you?" She said, tapping her foot. Behind her, Talia Mesclon sighed resignedly.

"I could never sneak up on on ye, could I? Yo' too observant fo' yo' own good." She stepped forward to beside Ylsa and held out pen.

"Thank y'." said Ylsa, and she grasped the proffered pen. They both disappeared with a crackle, leaving nothing but the smell of ozone in the air.

----

Kingsley Shacklebolt collapsed at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place. He was considerably dishiveled as he laid his head on his arms and tried to doze a bit. His efforts were in vain, for just as he was doing so, the door banged open and Weasley Circus began. Ginny and Ron were arguing like there was no tomorrow. The twins were teasing a furious Percy. Mrs Weasley was shouting at them all while trying to begin the breakfast. Kingsley groaned in horror.

"Bad night?" Said Harry, sitting down in the chair beside him. Kingsley mumbled something incomprehensible. Harry chuckled at the large man's plight, before turning to Mrs Weasley. "May I help with anything? I can imagine the hassle it is cooking for your 'clan'..."

Mrs Weasley smiled in adoration, the effect brightening up her tired and overworked face. "Would you really, Harry? You're such a treasure!"

Harry smoothly took over the large frying pan she was holding, then freed one hand to pull out the chair he had just vacated so she could sit down. She collapsed in much the same way as Kingsley, looking almost as dishiveled. She turned to the half-dead auror next to her.

"Are you alright? You look terrible!" She exclaimed. Kingsley opened a bleary eye.

"Thanks." He said sarcasticly. "I've just had one of the worse shifts ever. Can someone please tell his lordship to give us a bloody break? We can't seem to keep up with his reign of terror."

Molly cooed sympathetically. She was about to say something, when, with a crack, Dumbledore appeared amid the chaos.

"My word--!" He managed before being swamped with a mass of red-headed, freckled greetings. He slowly waded his way through the hysteria, nodded a greeting to Harry, who was mysteriously managing to avoid the hysteria, and sat down opposite the two exhausted adults.

"Good morning, Albus." said Molly, echoed faintly by Kingsley, who looked as though he was wishing he was dead. Dumbledore looked at them bemusedly.

"Good morning Molly, Kingsley. You two look, ah, rather hassled, shall we say?"

They glared darkly at him. He chuckled in response.

"I can imagine. Now, in light of that revelation, I'm afraid I may be the bringer of bad news." The glare became a Death Glare. Dumbledore, for all his magnificance, was looking wary of the adult's wrath. "As I'm sure you know, we are accepting an exchange student to Hogwarts this year." The pair nodded tiredly. "Well, due to a recent upsurge in the number of Voldemort-related incidents--" here, Kingsley groaned again. "--we have decided that she will come early, to stay at Grimmauld Place. We can't risk her being harmed, as it would reflect badly on our ministry."

There was a derisive snort from Harry's vicinity.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow before returning his attention to the conversation. " I would like you, Molly, to try and make her feel welcome. And, if you could ask the children to also try, I would be grateful. Kingsley, I am warning you because you will have one more person to protect. To maintain political friendships she must not be put at risk. Can I count on your help?" He said, addressing them both.

As Molly and Kingslrey gave him their affirmative, there was loud clang as someone rang the doorbell. Mrs Black began to screech.

----

"That was NOT a portkey." Said Ylsa, glaring at her former mentor. Talia grinned like a Hyena.

"O' course not. Unauthorised portkeys are illegal, remember? That, mon amie, was a _Caer_. Much more fun. And there are no laws whatsoever 'bout dem."

"A 'sky'?" replied Ylsa, incredulous. Talia shrugged in response.

"I dunno either. It's jus' a name." They stood quietly for a minute, before Ylsa, hair standing on end with static electricity, asked another question.

"More _fun!"_

Talia led the way, laughing her head off.

----

They stopped in front of two houses. Ylsa looked around Talia's shoulder. "Wha--?" Talia handed her a piece of parchment. Ylsa looked down at it, speaking the words in her head.

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

"The hell? Talia?" She stopped short as Number Twelve pushed it's way into being between numbers eleven and thirteen. "Neat trick. Fidelius?" Talia nodded, before reaching for the doorbell.

----

Dumbledore, Kingsley, all of the Wealsleys, and Harry--who had just finished serving breakfast-- made for the front door. Dumbldore answered it. "Ah, Mme Mesclon, Mme Vesuvio, welcome to Gr--" He was cut off by everyone else.

"Enchante, Mme et Mme, my name is Fred--"

"--And welcome to Grimmauld Place. My name is Geo--"

"--Filthy, nasty mudbloods! Get out! Get out! GET OU--"

"--Shut up! Please! For just one min--"

"--My God, will everyone, for one minute, please just SHUT UP."

Everyone went silent. They turned to Harry in shock. He cleared his throat and adjusted his roads, before proffering a hand to Talia. "Hallo there. I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you." Ylsa smiled behing Talia. This one had a head on his shoulders. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing, mate, I saw it at once. Talia gracefully accepted his hand, and he brought it towards him and kissed it.

"A pleasure, Harry. My name is Talia Mesclon. This is my former student Ylsa Vesuvio." She said, introducing the short-haired woman behind her. Ylsa held out her hand and Harry kissed it as well.

"Enchante." He murmured. "May I help you both with your bags?" he said before picking up the two suitcases. The rest of the hall's population were staring at Harry like he was a complete stranger, apart from Ginny who was blushing like a Beet. Dumbledore was the first to recover.

"Your rooms are on the fourth floor. If you would, Harry?" Harry nodded and led the two upstairs. Dumbledore watched his retreating back with a calculating stare. Something was wrong, different about Harry. This was not the Harry who rushed off to save others rashly, in the heat of the moment. This was not the Harry who wrecked his office at the end of the last year, trying to come to terms. This was not the headstrong, bullish young Gryffindor who had gotten himslef into so much trouble at school.

He needed to find out what was different, or Harry would soon be beyond his influence.

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_Please review._

_Vesuvio_


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